His Demanding John
by Caelia Ardentius
Summary: Just some good ol' fashioned (slightly kinky) sexy funtimes between our favorite lanky detective and his demanding blogger. A simple, smutty Johnlock oneshot romp. Dom John. Happy NaNoWriMo!


John takes both of Sherlock's hands in one of his own and pins them against the mattress above Sherlock's head. Sherlock's moans become louder and John's grip tightens even more, becoming a heady mix of both pain and pleasure. Sherlock has always liked things a bit rough. And he likes it even more when he can push John to the edge of his tether, watch as that legendary control unravels and John gives in to his baser desires.

Sweat covers John's golden body in a sensual sheen, the moonlight streaming in through the window lending John an ethereal glow as he pulls back far enough to stare into Sherlock's beautiful face.

"I want you," John growls.

Sherlock feels himself harden more than he thought possible. It was one thing to experience playful, respectful, passionate John in bed, whose sole purpose was the satisfaction of his lover. But this was the version of John that Sherlock loved best; the part that John only ever let Sherlock see. Dark, demanding, focused on his own desires. John the Aggressor. This was the version of himself that John had tried to deny many times in the past, that he felt that he had no place or cause for - until Sherlock. Only Sherlock has let him be who he was, with no judgements - hell, Sherlock craved it. Sherlock pressed and pushed and picked until he got what he wanted. And Sherlock had always lived on the very edge, only finding excitement through danger and menace. And this John was certainly a bit dangerous. Seeing John like this - carnal, untamed, seeking the pleasure that only Sherlock's body could provide - it took Sherlock's breath away. It was the best high he had ever found. His John is truly magnificent.

"So take me," Sherlock replies, his deep baritone rumbling through their bodies, causing friction in the most delicious of places.

The crinkles around John's eyes tightens as he stares down at the lithe body spread beneath him. This pale, unblemished flesh is his to plunder, his to mark. And oh, how how wants to mark it. With red prints, staking his claim, warning others off of what is _his_. John's pupils blow out entirely, consuming almost all of the color in his iris. His entire body is tense and quivering, anticipating his next move. He wants inside Sherlock. He wants to hear Sherlock's obscene gasps of pleasure as he buries himself so deeply in the other man's body, that he can't tell where Sherlock ends and he begins. His cock pulses at the thought of Sherlock's tight heat sheathed around him, and John can wait no longer.

"Hand and knees. Now." John removes his hand from Sherlock's wrists and Sherlock quickly moves to obey John's order. He stretches back languorously once he has complied, arching his pale, perfect ass up toward his lover.

"Like this, John?" Sherlock inquires, already knowing the answer. "Is this what you want?"

A heavy hand comes down upon Sherlock's bare skin with a satisfying _thwack,_ causing Sherlock's skin to redden and tingle beneath John's palm. Sherlock gasps in surprise and no small amount of pleasure and does not pull away. Instead, he arches further into John's hand as he trails over one pert globe, soothing the stinging heat left from the impact.

"God, Sherlock, you are so fucking flawless." John's hand draws back and lands with solid force again, on Sherlock's other cheek. Sherlock bites down hard on his bottom lip to keep from crying out before John's hand lands a third time.

"So pale and perfect." A fourth - harder than the others, and aimed at the pink skin still tender from the first slap. This time, Sherlock is not able to hold back and a cry of pure pleasure escapes his abused mouth. "So glorious and creamy. I love when I make it redden under my hand, bringing that blush to the surface - leaving my mark on you."

"Please," Sherlock whispers, eyes wide as he peers at John over his shoulder. "Please, John."

John's eyes meet his and the moment is electric. John's eyes are filled with dark, molten heat; a forbidden promise. He positions himself in between Sherlock's legs, pops the top on the bottle of lube that lays near his leg, and coats his heavy cock with the slippery, viscous liquid, then throws the bottle to the side. He is cock is near to bursting, but he wants to enjoy this for a few moments longer. Fingers still coated in lube, he quickly inserts one, then two deft fingers into Sherlock's tight little pucker. Sherlock moans loudly at the contact, once again biting his lip, but his eyes stay trained on John, watching and waiting. John rubs his penis into the cleft of Sherlock's ass, dragging the head up and down as he uses his fingers to continue to spread Sherlock open to him. His fingers scissor in and out, reveling in the feel of Sherlock - so tight, grasping, contracting around his digits - wanting.

"You love it, don't you," John asks. "Love the feel of my fingers fucking you, making you ready for me. Love knowing that soon I am going to bury my cock inside you and ride you harder than you've ever been ridden before."

Sherlock moans at the sensation of John's finger, never faltering inside him, pushing, expanding, providing heat and pleasure. His head drops down as his brain attempts to absorb everything around him, then snaps up as John's burning hand descends once again on his tender flesh.

"Answer me, Sherlock." John's voice is hard, demanding.

"Yes," Sherlock whispers, then cries out again as John's hand leaves another stinging path on his ass.

"Louder, Sherlock. Tell me."

"Yes, John. Yes! I love...I love having you..so deep inside me…" Sherlock's breath quickens, becoming more ragged, as he feels himself approaching the edge of his release. His cock is throbbing and his body is tingling, a tension building in the pit of his stomach. "John.. please…"

"Oh, no you don't, you're not coming without me."

John quickly removes his fingers from Sherlock, shifting both hands to grab Sherlock's narrow hips. His positions himself behind Sherlock, ready at his entrance, the head of his penis just brushing Sherlock's pink hole. The skin on Sherlock's ass still has the faintest tinge of pink from John's hand, and he feels a primal sense of satisfaction and the sight. Sherlock's heavy breathing mixes with his own in the silence of the bedroom.

"Look at me," John commands. Sherlock lifts his eyes once again to lock with John's, and John can see how close Sherlock really is. His beautiful pale eyes are hazy and dark, his plush lips red from where he has been biting them and his high cheekbones are flush with color. He is so breathtaking that John can't bear it any longer.

"Say it. Say it, Sherlock."

"Please, John, fuck me. Fuck me so hard, John-"

Before Sherlock can finish, John braces Sherlock with his grip on his hips and plunges deep inside of him. Sherlock gasps, then yells with unbridled satisfaction as John begins to thrust hard and deep into Sherlock's tight pucker.

"Oh fuck, Sherlock, you are so fucking tight," John grunts.

His fingers tighten on Sherlock's hips, grasping at him, pulling him back onto his cock as he pushes strongly forward, fucking him thoroughly. John's hips snap forward with each thrust, burying himself deep, seeking release in the other man's body. And with every thrust, Sherlock's body welcomes John's invasion; wet, tight heat surrounding him, muscles grasping and straining.

"Oh, God, John, I am going to-" The pressure and sensation are too much for Sherlock. The tense coil in his stomach shatters, and with a final yell of completion, he is pushed off of that blissful edge of release into pure, delightful, weightless orgasm. His aching cock spills everywhere, sending ribbons of ejaculate all over the sheets below him. His mind is completely still, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat, wild and erratic.

"That's right, come for me, Sherlock. Christ, you are so fucking beautiful, Sherlock. Fuck."

John picks up the pace, thrusting more wildly into Sherlock's sated body. His hands grip Sherlock firmly in place, his fingers leaving small purple bruises against the creamy flesh. Sherlock's body is pliant in his hands, and John leans forward to cover Sherlock's body. His mouth finds the curve where Sherlock's neck meets his shoulder, and licks the salth from Sherlocks skin and tongues the area before nipping at the spot. Sherlock keens from the overwhelming sensation.

The room resounds with the sound of flesh smacking against flesh, and John takes a perverse pleasure in it. He smells sex and the tangy aroma of Sherlock's scent mixing with his own. Hears his own harsh breathing as he strains toward climax. Sherlock looks at John over his shoulder again, his eyes hooded with pleasure, a sated smile hanging on his lips.

"Come for me, John. I want to feel you come inside me." He tightens his muscles around John's cock. John shouts his release as he climaxes and buries himself deeply inside of Sherlock, his burning cock emptying within his lover.

John pulls out with a final grunt and falls back onto the bed next to Sherlock. Both men breathe heavily as they come down from orgasm, bodies slick, moonlight still skimming and outlining their forms. Sherlock's recovery is quicker. He lets out a sigh of pure satisfaction and turns his head to look at his partner. His John.

"You're lucky that we don't have a case that is going to trial soon," He remarks drily. "I don't know that I would be able to sit comfortably in any wooden pews for the next few days."

John's lips curve in a self-satisfied smirk as he looks over at Sherlock, admiring the length of his body sprawled out next to his own. He turns to his side, propping a hand beneath his cheek, and setting the other to roaming Sherlock's midriff. Sherlock's eyes close slowly, taking in the feel of John's wandering hand, then open to meet his in a clear gaze. He quirks an eyebrow at John.

"Don't exaggerate, Sherlock. It doesn't become you." Sherlock lets out a small, delighted chuckle. "You love it when I spank you, almost as much as I love leaving my mark on you."

"Hmm, yes," Sherlock drawls. "You do get rather possessive, don't you? Whoever would have thought that you would be the demanding one?"

"What can I say?" John laughs and leans down, placing a warm, clinging kiss to Sherlock's mouth. "You bring out the animal in me."

Sherlock rolls his eyes at this and places his hand at the base of John's neck, pulling John's face forward once again, so that their lips brush. John's blue eyes are shining once more and drop to trace the lines of the plush cushion of Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock inhales the scent that is just purely _John_ and takes a second to catalogue this moment into his mind. His John; his extraordinary, caring, sensuous, riveting, faceted, _demanding_ John – the only person that continues to surprise him.

Sherlock pulls John down the last few centimeters, their lips melding together in heated caresses. He parts his lips, and John's tongue instantly takes the opportunity to plunder his mouth, plunging deep inside, stroking the inside of his mouth with skilled swipes. Sherlock moans into the kiss and feels that spark of lust that only John can stir in him. He sighs, pulling his lips away to meet John's aroused gaze.

"John?"

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"You should let your animal free more often. I rather enjoy when he is around."

"Mmm," John chuckles in agreement, then leans to cover Sherlock's mouth with his own again. "I'll just bet you do."


End file.
